Thanksgiving used to be a terrible day for me. As a kid, we lived STATES away from any extended family so we mostly spent it alone.
That looked like me and my parents' dysfunctional and tension-filled, snipping, snapping, grumbling, not-talking marriage for the day and NO FRIENDS 😩.
Days I couldn't play with friends made my heart sink; they were dreadful in a way that's hard to explain.
Most days, I was knocking on doors at 10am and I would run our 100-house neighborhood until the street lights came on...at which point I would run home, report location, and ask for more outside time. Let the Ghost 👻 in the Graveyard begin.
In many ways, my neighborhood friends were my siblings; they were my family.
There were years when not having enough *plans*, being sick (anything that meant I couldn't leave the house), and Holidays would trigger a deep sense of dread and unworthiness in me that my husband had no idea how to deal with...or even where it came from.
I'm not sure when I realized I'm not alone anymore, but it's been more recent than one would logically think.
And on this Thanksgiving with *no plans* and just my immediate family, I'm realizing how not-dreadful I feel and how grateful I am for these 5 (Cowboy included). I don't just love them, I really really like them.
My family being my friends might be the thing I'm most grateful for this year 🦃❤️️
dress from @renttherunway
P.S. - Feeling less like friends and more like enemies? Check out myFree Training for Busy Couples at www.mikaross.com/training